Lysie, I grew up in a particular section of the inner city of Chicago, called Little Italy.. We lived in tenement houses, three stories tall, three apartments deep, called cold water flats..
Needless to say we didn’t have any AC or Hot water for that matter, but we did have ventilation slats in our doors, to get some kind of circulation in the summer.. But I digress..
Well, every night if you walked the halls, you could smell what every apartment was cooking, and baking, which could drive you to distraction.. These were all authentic Italians, mostly immigrants from all corners of Italy, each having there own particular specialties..
It was a cornucopia of scents and aromas that made you hungry, again, even if you had just eaten.. Lastly, we kids, hundreds of us greasers, all went to the show Saturday afternoon, and all of us brought our own homemade sandwiches, stuffed with imported pepperoni, salamis, and meatballs, and sausages, loaded with garlic and spices..
After the 1st movie, the first of 3, we would all open our lunch bags and the smell would explode, and permeate the theater, and waif out into the lobby, and out to the street.. People would snicker as they passed.. LOL
Yummy smell.
I went to Catholic grade school in an Italian neighborhood. I was amazed at the meals - no sandwiches ever appeared - that the kids would reveal in the dank old lunchroom! And there I was with my miserable tuna fish sandwich.